Anniversary
by Acepilot6
Summary: No.35 in the Road series. One year after Road Trip, Phil discovers the dilemma of shopping for anniversary gifts. Please read and review.


**Anniversary **

Acepilot

AN – It's been a year since Road Trip, so I thought I'd celebrate with this fic. It's set…a year after Road Trip! Short and fun, please read and review.

Disclaimer – the characters contained within are property of KlaskyCsupo and I am making no profit from this fanfiction.

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"You guys are not helping me here!"

Tommy grins at me smugly and I am very tempted to sock him. Chuckie just shrugs. "Well, this is all really your own fault, isn't it?"

"It's so not my fault!" I defend myself, even though I know very well that it is. If I'd been better organized, I would never have been in this mess. Of course, some might argue that if I had been better organized, I wouldn't have been me in the strictest sense, either. "It crept up on me."

"Anniversaries do not 'creep up on you'," Chuckie tells me. "Well, not on smart people, anyway."

"What do you know? You don't even have a girlfriend!" I wail. "You guys are supposed to be my best friends. Shouldn't you be helping me out with this?" I turn to Tommy. "I would have helped you, you know."

"Yes, but I was smart enough to get my wife a very nice present long before today," he points out. "And that's another thing. How could you possibly forget your anniversary when it's the same as mine?"

"Let's not turn this into a blame game," I plead, aware that he's got me on a good point. Not only was what happened twelve months ago tomorrow one of the most incredible experiences of my life, it was also one of the most incredible of Tommy's life, of Lil's life. And I was there for it all.

This is kind of embarrassing, I've got to admit.

"Why not write her a poem?" Chuckie suggests. "It's romantic."

I stuff my hands in my pockets and stop pacing. "That's an idea," I agree, before spreading my arms wide and bellowing,

"_One year ago today,_

_You made me very happy_

_By agreeing –_"

"Or maybe not," Tommy cuts me off. "Let's try something else."

"What did you get Lil?" I ask.

"Yeah, isn't first wedding anniversary meant to be copper or something?" Chuckie asks.

I make a face at that thought and Tommy corrects him, "Actually, it's paper. But I got her a necklace."

"Where?" I ask eagerly. "Can I get Kimi one, too?"

"You don't want to be unoriginal, now, do you?" Chuckie asks, admonishingly. "After all, this is my sister we're talking about. And if I get even a hint that you're not treating her exactly as she deserves – "

"He hasn't bought her a present on the day before their anniversary, and you're still thinking he's alright?" Tommy asks, curious.

"He gets until midnight," Chuckie tells him. "Then I beat him up."

I try to stifle a laugh.

"Anyway," Chuckie continues, glaring at me, "you better make this special, or else."

"Romantic candlelit dinner?" I suggest.

"Bit generic, and simply screams 'I didn't have any better ideas,'" Tommy says. "And you've got to be at our party, remember?"

"Are you guys going to shoot down every idea I have?" I ask.

They exchange a quick glance before turning back to me. "Probably," Chuckie confirms.

"Marvelous."

---

I'm still vaguely fuming, hours later, as I sit alone at home waiting for Kimi to get home from class. I've been yet to have one good idea – or, rather, I haven't had a good idea that wasn't accompanied by Tommy and Chuckie's voices in my head saying 'No'.

My beloved fiancé walks in looking exhausted. "I hate university," she declares to the world – me and the dining room chairs – before stomping into the bedroom.

I get up from my seat and follow her, leaning against the bedroom doorway, and watching her as she dumps her bag on the bed and shakes out her hair, running her fingers through it. I'm tempted to join in.

She turns around and sees me staring. "What?"

I shrug. "Nothing. Just…"

She crosses the room to take me by my shirt collar. "Come on, Mr. DeVille. We both know how lousy you are at hiding when something's wrong. You might as well just tell me now and get it over with."

I sigh. The really irritating thing, of course, is that she's right. I can't hide anything from her. Not even if I wanted to – though, thankfully, I don't often want to. "I can't think of anything to get you for our anniversary," I admit reluctantly.

She brightens slightly. "Is that all?"

Is that _all_! "Well…yeah…"

She chuckles and stands on her tip-toes to kiss me on the cheek. "Don't worry about it. Whatever you get me, I'm sure I'll love it. You know what I like, after all." She brushes my hair back out of my eyes affectionately. "Come on, let's get dinner started, I'm starving."

---

Right, Phil. Try not to hyperventilate. It's not like she's going to leave you if this doesn't go to plan. She loves you. Just…don't mess it up too badly.

Is thinking to yourself as bad as talking to yourself?

Flowers? Check. Candles? Check. Music? Check. Good, good. We're all set.

Now we just need her.

When she finally does step through the door, slightly late but as radiant and beautiful as ever, I think the look on her face would imply that she's more than mildly surprised. "Phil, what's going on?" she asks, a mischievous grin already starting to take the place of the shock.

"Happy anniversary, koibito," I manage to get out without stammering. I offer her the hyacinth I'm holding. "For you."

She takes it with a smile and kisses me on the cheek. "You did all this for me?"

I grin. "Well, sort of. Tommy and Chuckie helped. We're expected at Tommy and Lil's party in about two hours. But I thought maybe we could celebrate our own little milestone first."

I, hopefully subtly, nudge the stereo remote, and 'My Happiness' starts wafting through the apartment. "Would you like to dance?"

She smiles at me, putting the flower down on the doorside table, and stepping up to let me take her in my arms. "I'd love to. Happy Anniversary, Phil."

I smile. A year. I've kept her for a year.

And this just goes to show that I love her more than ever.

We dance in the dimly lit room, completely oblivious to the rest of the world.

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